The Sound of Us
by the ticking clock
Summary: Their friendship had always been as easy as breathing.


Night had fallen; the hobbits were all asleep, their ceaseless chattering softened in sleep to light snores. The other members of the fellowship were resting as well, and the camp was quiet, save for the sound of the night and the forest.

To anyone but an elf, the woods would have been silent. But He could hear the whispering of the trees, the soft song of the stars, and the quiet noises of the animals. It soothed him, calming his mind and shifting his worries and fears to a darker, hidden place in his thoughts.

He saw without surprise that Aragorn was also awake. The Ranger was sitting with his back to Legolas, shoulder's haunched, fingers playing absently with the hilt of his sword. The faint scent of pipe smoke drifted from him, and Legolas wrinkled his nose. He never have approved of his friend's smoking habits, but Aragorn had lived alone enough that he had taken a liking to to the foul-smelling pipe.

He almost considered leaving the man alone, since his friend appeared deep in thought, but when he started to turn away, Aragorn said, "I know you're there, Legolas."

Smiling slightly, Legolas walked over to his friend. "I forgot, sometimes, that your hearing is better than most humans."

Aragorn grimaced around the pipe in his mouth, but Legolas could not tell if that was an attempt to smile or simply a gesture of acknowledgment."Lucky for you," The words were playful, but there was a dark undertone to his friend's voice that instantly raised concern in Legolas.

He narrowed his eyes at the man, trying to deduce the problem without asking Aragorn to reveal information or emotions that he did not want too. There were new lines around his friend's mouth and eyes, giving him a haunted, almost angry appearance. His hair was a dark as ever, but Legolas caught sight of a few grey hairs in Aragorn's beard. More than that though, was the tense set of his friend's shoulders, and the rigidness of his expression, as if he was restraining some emotion. His silver eyes were narrowed, calculating, reflecting the moonlight so Legolas could see the faint sheen of unshed tears and the dark thoughts that Aragorn was not expressing.

In many ways, Legolas had not noticed the subtle change in his friend over the past few years-they had seen each other so fleetingly-but now, he saw that those years(brief flashes of time for him) had aged the man. Aragorn was more reserved, more detached than Legolas remembered him. A heavy weight was on his shoulders, and the elf's heart ached with the desire to lessen it. Seeing his friend so cold, so _old _haunted him. He was not used to it.

If Aragorn knew Legolas was studying him, he did not comment on it. His eyes were still fixed straight ahead, scanning the forest for danger. His fingers were tapping restlessly against the hilt of his sword in a gesture that the elf was sure he wasn't even aware of.

"What's troubling you?" Legolas asked finally, slipping into Elvish in case the other members of the fellowship were awake and listening.

Aragorn sighed, his eyes flashing quickly to Legolas's face and back to the forest again. "I'm worried."

"Can I be of assistance?" He made the words as gentle as he could without making eye contact. Aragorn was clearly not in the frame of mind to have an emotional conversation.

The man let out a mirthless bark of laughter. "If you could change our current situation, you could." He leaned back on his elbows, nearly lying down, tilting his face up to the stars. The silver light brought out the shadows in his face, highlighting his cheekbones. "Sometimes," He said softly, "I wish Elrond had not told me of my destiny, and I had remained Estel." He turned his head so he was looking Legolas in the eye, and the raw emotion on his face made the elf's heart ache. "Those were the happiest years of my life, and now all I have is darkness and destiny, battles and blood. I don't know if I can do this..."

His words trigged a long-buried memory in Legolas's thoughts, the elf closed his eyes, allowing the past to consume his consciousness for a moment.

_They were lying in the grassy field of a clearing in the forest, the trees swaying dizzily above their heads, the only sound the soft crunch of the horse's hooves as they walked and grazed. It was warm, the sun pulsing against their faces with a gentle intensity, bringing color to Estel's cheeks. _

_ The boy was nearly ten, and he had already grown so much. He was stronger now, his face fuller, and Legolas was beginning to catch glimpses of the man he'd become. _

_ "Las?" Estel asked after a moment of silence. "What does friendship sound like?"_

_ Amused, but not quite understanding the question, Legolas said, 'what do you mean, little one?"_

_ "I mean..." The boy's voice trailed off as he thought, his silver eyes narrowing in concentration. "I mean, many emotions have sounds, don't they? happiness is horse hooves and laughter, sadness is music and cries, anger is lightening and thunder, but I can't find a sound for friendship."_

_ Estel was beginning to think like an elf, Legolas thought with fondness. Putting emotions with sounds and outside things...he was an intelligent, dreamy soul, and that was one of the things Legolas loved about him. _

_ "Friendship, Estel," He said after awhile. "Friendship sounds like this."_

_ "I don't hear anything."_

_ "Ah, but you do," the elf said, rising onto his elbows so he could look at the boy better. "Listen."_

_ Estel closed his eyes, his lips moving soundlessly as he whispered to himself, trying to understand what Legolas was trying to tell him. "I only hear us breathing."_

_ "Exactly," Legolas said, ruffling his friend's hair, causing the boy to giggle indigently. "Friendship doesn't need many sounds, little one. It sounds like two people breathing and being together. It's quiet and gentle."_

_ "I see," Estel said, his face passive as he processed the information. _

_ Legolas touched the boy's arm. "If you ever need me, and I'm not there, listen to your breathing, and remember what friendship sounds like."_

_ "It sounds like air?"_

_ "Peace. Quiet." _

_ Estel made a face. "You're not always peaceful and quiet. Friendship doesn't have to always sound so soft does it?"_

_ "no," the elf said, lying back down and staring up at the swaying trees. "It sounds like this."_

_ And they laid there for what seemed like an eternity, whispering and laughing and exploring their own friendship._

Legolas opened his eyes to find Aragorn watching him. The man's expression was curious, but he had known Legolas long enough not to question him. "Are you all right?"

"Are you?" Legolas retaliated, copying his friend's position so they were lying face to face in the grass.

Aragorn's lips twitched into a half-smile. "No."

"Oh Estel," Legolas said softly, "I wish you could see yourself for how you really are."

The man snorted. "I wish you would stop saying that."

"It is the truth." the elf shifted his weight so he could better see his friends expression.

"Legolas," Aragorn said, and there was an odd note to his voice, a whimsical tone that spoke of years of friendship and memories long gone and faded. "Do you remember when I was ten, and I asked you what friendship sounded like?"

Legolas smiled at the memory, the words whispering in the forefront of his mind like the gentle touch of a familiar song. "I do."

When Aragorn spoke, his voice was soft, the Elvish a flowing murmur. "Las, what does hope sound like?"

The words roll off his tongue with easy familiarity. "Estel," he said, and reached out to take his friend's hand. "It sounds like this."


End file.
